


The Other Welsh King

by fantasybooklife



Category: Merlin (TV), Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dreams, Established Relationship, M/M, Magic, Magical (mis)adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasybooklife/pseuds/fantasybooklife
Summary: Ronan's Dreams are trying to tell him something, Adam's magic is reaching out to in odd ways, Gansey has a feeling nearly a year after their quest that something is incomplete, Blue's father has been trying to tell them something that no one seems to understand.The Once and Future King is ready to return, but something is not right.  Merlin feels the return approach, has done for some time, but the details are hidden to him.---------------------------------------------------------------------------This idea has been kicking around in my head for almost a year.  I have not flushed out a whole story so it will come in bits and pieces.TRC people/relationships will be closer to canon than Merlin will since Maggie gave us the queer content we wanted while Merlin kinda queer-baited us with that Epic Bromance that should have been a romance.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19





	1. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the formatting, trying to work out what I have done wrong!

Ronan was dreaming.  
This was not one of -those- dreams though.  
There was no monster or creeping feeling of doom surrounding him. It was not a dream for taking either. He had not gone to sleep thinking of an object he needed or wanted. He had gotten much better at only taking what was intentional. Ronan sighed when he realized it was this dream again. He was in the forest. It was not -his- forest but at the same time, it was. This feeling both comforted and discomfited him as he always knew his forest was just an extension of something that was already there, but at the same time worried that he had not controlled the location. The Flora and Fauna still seemed to know him but did not call out to their Greywaren, instead, they seemed to be singing a dirge, mourning for something or someone. Were they mourning the loss of his previous forest? Were they aware of the sacrifices made to reclaim Gansey? This dream always made him feel a bit guilty. He could not have let Gansey die but the loss of his magical forest, the place that made Adam's magic sing and gave Opal a home was heavy in his heart.

Ronan wandered what he felt was aimlessly at first through this dreamscape until he realized there was a definite tug in a certain direction. The lake again. As he pushed through the trees emerging on edge of a green overlooking the smooth as glass lake he felt something different. There were tiny blue wisp-like lights floating over the surface this time. Walking to the edge of the lake he looked down, knowing what he would see.  
The Blond Man.  
He reminded Ronan of sleeping beauty in a way, always had, and that made him snort. The Blond was handsome Ronan supposed, though not his type at all. When he first envisioned the man it was prior to his getting together with Adam and he thought maybe it was just a Gay fantasy dream or something. He was quick to realize that this could not be the case seeing as he was not drawn to this man in that way AND Ronan certainly had a type that could not possibly fit this guy.  
Peering down at the Blond in the water Ronan caught his own reflection and at first did not think twice. After a quick look to see that indeed the blond was still there after this year of dreaming him his gaze shifted the wisps, the change in direction caused his reflection to shimmer a bit and he startled.  
Hair? It was the same colour as his but longer, shaggier, with a bit of the curl that Ronan knew he would have if he let it grow. ( which he has so far refused to do for Adam no matter how much he begged) Then he caught the eyes, They were still Blue but these were a dazzling dark blue with flecks of what looked like gold in them as opposed to his cool icey blue. A flash of red in the reflection at the neck had his hand flying up to see what it was. A neckerchief, in red. What the actual fuck. Ronan would not be caught dead in either anything with colour nor as dorky as a neck scarf.  
He looked down at himself now for the first time. He was dressed as some sort of medieval serf. This was new.  
With curiosity he peered back into the water at the man. Was this the first time he appeared to be wearing armour? Ronan touched the surface, feeling the need to touch the man, a deep fondness filling his heart at the same time as a heavy pain filled it.  
Sorrow.  
It was then he noticed the wisps seemed to be whispering to him. Calling out to him, or not him?

"Myrddin" he heard over and over.

Then it was gone.

He woke to find Adam crawling into bed after one of his warehouse shifts.  
Ronan wrapped an arm around Adams waist and let them fall to sleep trying not to think anymore of this strange dream.


	2. Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin feels it.

Merlin feels the air stir slightly around him as he stands outside his once small cottage in the Welsh countryside. He never really left the area for good though often spent decades at a time wandering the world in the search of knowledge, in search of answers. Still, the once small cottage, added onto several times over the centuries, will always be home.  
He had built it himself some centuries after he lost his heart and soul. The landscape was changing, nature doing what it would and Merlin would not use his magic against nature if he could avoid it. His little cottage was put up within a few hundred yards of what had been -the lake- because he could not part himself from the only connection he still had to his _ffrind enaid_. By the time he had built it, the area was more marsh than lake but Merlin would still stand at the edge of it and look wistfully out hoping beyond hope for signs.  
Merlin gazes across the modern landscape and reaches out with his magic to see if he can sense Freya still. It has been many centuries since she last appeared, her magic seemed to dry up when the lake did but Merlin always held out a little hope that when he needed some comfort she would be there for him. She was not. He sighed a little melancholy sigh and turned back into the cottage, through the small sitting area, past the ancient styled kitchen and into what most would call a library, though it was as much a working space as it was a repository for his books.  
As he entered the cramped space he heard it again. Over the past months, maybe year he had started hearing the whispers, quiet and jumbled as if it were many voices, more frequently. The whispers came in Olde Welsh and the first time he heard them, nearly 20 years ago ( or so he thought, after 1500 years his tracking of time was a bit off what with all the time that had passed and several changes to the calendar, he could not be blamed) or so.  
The first time he was certain what they were saying he wept. He had not heard his native tongue spoken so naturally since he last saw Leon some 700ish years before. Merlin assumed Leon had finally passed on. The cup had granted him longevity sure, but a man who lived centuries as a soldier was bound to meet a rough end sooner or later. The last he had seen of him he was off to serve Owain Glyndwr. Merlin had hugged the man tightly before he left and told him what he assumed he already knew. Glyndwr was one of _theirs_ . Leon had nodded and whispered softly that he missed him, making Merlin choke up and nod silently before Leon left.  
Merlin looked to the source of the sounds and notices there are tiny flickers of stronger light in the same areas that have been acting up over the past year, near the same areas that have had the most flickers for almost as much time as the whispers have been around. The large nearly round ball hovered a foot or so over Merlin's worktop. While it did represent a globe there were not countries or oceans depicted. It in fact looked hollow, the shape held only by the lines of light that flickered around it. The lines joined and crossed in various locations with there being four spots that had many lines converging through them. Merlin listened to the whispers as he watched two lines flicker a bit brighter again. These two lines had been the brightest of all of them for some time now, some of the lines were almost fading into nothing. Merlin reached out to his leyline tracker, his finger brushing over the bight spots that have had him wondering, worrying for a decade so. He startled the second contact was made. A spark of some power shivered up his arm at the same time all the whispered voices converged into one. 

"Hir byw y Brenin"


	3. The Twice and Present Gansey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gansey gets an inkling something is afoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to redo this entire chapter after first attempting to type it in direct here and accidentally closing the browser while researching something. whoops. I did not recall everything I had in there exactly. I feel this is a less than stellar recreation of what I had originally typed, it had taken days to come up with how I wanted it to be. Oh well. For the few who are following this I hope you enjoy it. I hope to get better as time goes by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richard Gansey III was currently very much alive, though looking half-dead in his sleepful state in the cuddle huddle made of himself, Blue, and Henry.   
The second version of Richard Gansey III would not have found sleep so easy.  
That second incarnation of Gansey worried about his search for a King, about the need to be everything that his parents expected of him, about the wellbeing of his friends. That version of Gansey also had nightmares about the death of the first version of Richard Gansey III. Richard Gansey III 's second life was overwrought with insomnia.  
Dick v. 3.0 was something Henry had coined once the grief had settled sometime after that day. That dreadful day watching Ronan almost die as he spilled his love for Adam all over the road in flowers and Latin phrases, of watching Adam try to kill Ronan through the possession of the demon. That day of a bittersweet first kiss that took his breath and life away.

Gansey half woke as he could hear a movie playing in the background. Eyes half opening to see if Blue and Henry were both still wrapped up with him. They had been here at Fox Way to have a movie night just the three of them. Seeing their shapes beside him safe and sound his eyes then flicked to the television where the movie they had been watching was no longer playing. Gently tugging his arms free from the knot they were in to rub palms against his eyes and stretch his back as he turned to Blue with a raised eyebrow.   
" The Sword and the Stone? What happened to the other movie Jane?"  
Henry chirped a short laugh as he patted Gansey on the shoulder and answered.  
"You slept through it Dick 3.0, do you even remember what it was we were watching?"  
Stumped for a reply Gansey just shrugged a shoulder.  
Blue attempted to smooth Gansey's sleep rumpled hair as she smiled at him with affection.  
"You were asleep within twenty minutes of the other one starting, then about halfway through you started muttering in your sleep about ' once and future king' so we put this on as the next pick." 

Gansey hummed to himself and worried his bottom lip with his thumb trying to remember if he had been dreaming. He had a vague feeling that he had been thinking of Glendower again yet it did not feel the same. The images that came to his mind were not complete though he was sure they were not memories of their quest. There were just a few quick flashes of a Castle, a lake, a man in medieval armour, a flash of golden eyes, two dark-haired women, children, an army. It was all just quick flashes, no order seemed to come, no story, no context. There were also emotions. He had no explanation for this. He concentrated on the images and felt a flood of grief run through him. There were bright sparks of love, joy, loyalty as well. The strongest emotion, overall though seemed to be anticipation, longing.   
Looking up at the movie Gansey saw the image of the old bearded wizard and felt a wrongness in it.   
"Two sides of the same coin" he blurted out rather loudly, causing both Henry and Blue to turn and look at him with concern. Just then, Gwenllian started singing in her loudest, screechiest voice. The noise was coming from the back yard, so the trio was not quite sure what she was on about.  
Looking from one to the other, they all rolled their eyes at Gwenllian's antics and unfolded themselves from the couch to go see what had her so bothered.   
As they walked through the kitchen to the door to the back yard the trio could hear more clearly what it was Gwenllian was singing/screeching out so frantically. Her wild hair let down was swinging and floating as she twirled and danced around the tree that housed Blue's father, Artemus when he was not in the mood or not have the strength to hold human form. 

"hir byw yBreninn, mae'Breninin yn dod  
venit ad regem, vivat rex" the medieval transplant sang and danced round and round. 

" Do you hear that Artemus? Do you feel it? bydd y taid mor hapus"  
Suddenly she stopped frowning with her fists on hips.   
"It's gone again. Artemus what is going on? Do you feel it? Did you?"

Artemus being in one of his tree form moods did not answer Gwenllian.   
  
"Gwenllian" Blue interrupted " what are you talking about? We found the King and he was dead remember?"

  
Gwenllian cocked her head to the side rather bird-like staring down Blue for a moment before turning to look Gansey straight in the eye.

  
"The King is Dead, Long live the once and future King"

Gansey had a feeling he was going to be dragging out his old research and calling his old friend Roger Malory again. 


	4. It's Elemental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin being Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, apologies, the grammar is worse than usual but I wanted to get this out while it was going good and did not want to overthink it.  
> Second, I am in general a huge fantasy nerd so others who are also big readers and fellow fantasy tv watchers may see me borrow or allude to other works in a nod to how much I love them ( there are at least 2 just in this chapter and there will be more to come)  
> I am trying to balance going back and forth between TRC and Merlin with chapters but with most of Merlin cast being dead in the current timeline it may have to come in flashbacks. That is really not how I wanted to tell Merlin and Arthurs story but it may have to work out that way for there to be fandom balance... we shall see. 
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months have passed and Merlin still has no further sign of Arthurs return. The leyline tracker continues to crackle up with whispers from time to time, with lines across the ocean lighting up with shocking brightness then dimming quickly. These occurrences have been going for a year give or take but he fails to be able to track this to Arthur. Arthur died here, was laid to rest here, in Wales, not in the New World (goodness he needs to remember it is not so new anymore) where the only tie direct to their line had been Owain. He puzzled over what connection, other than distant blood, Glendower may have to Arthurs return. 

Maybe there was no connection at all. 

Perhaps Arthur's return was going to come in the form of reincarnation and not a reappearance despite what Merlin and all other magic users of their time had worked through from the prophesies and their knowledge of elemental magic. 

Some of their other loved ones had been reincarnated, though none of them knew it. Merlin had met most of them a few times and could sense their essences, most of the good traits still shining through their new personalities. Merlin never managed to have them all back at once, always one or two alive and in his orbit. He rarely went a decade or more without contact with at least one of them. The fact that none of them knew what it was that drew them together pained him a bit, but he was more than happy for none of them to have to relive the more painful parts of their previous life. 

Inside his _magically bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside cottage_ Merlin hovered his hands over the leyline tracker and reached out with his magic. He felt the hum of the lines all over the world as a slight tingle under his skin. The tracker itself could not have magic performed on it, or repaired on it, but let him track the health and activity of the lines. Merlin himself did not fix or maintain lines but he could send some suggestive nudges out into what remained of the magical community when need be. Usually, he just left nature to run its course, as was the way with elemental magic, but sometimes nature needed a hand if it were something unnatural that had caused a problem. 

Merlin could feel there had been disturbances in the lines near his location and where the tracker has been active in the recent year. 

"Arthur, is this you?" he whispers to himself. "Where are you Cariad?"

A breeze slips past him as the tracker flickers a moment, the whispers that had been hushed to barely a background buzz increased their volume, changed their tune. 

"Goedwig Freuddwyd" 

Merlin was stunned stock still. 

"So all I had to do was ask?" he laughs almost bitterly to himself.

No more whispers. Indeed all the whispers stopped, not even the gentle background buzz he had become accustomed to over the past months. 

Merlin closes his eyes and stills his heart, controls his breathing, and centers his mind. When all is calm he leaves the cottage and walks to what was the center of the lake. All of what was once Camelot is magic to Merlin but this spot, in particular, has power to it. He strips his clothes off and lays himself in the moss and grass, ensuring intricate yet delicately lined tattoos make contact with the earth. The runes and maps of lines on his skin are there to protect him, not to help with his magic. Merlin's magic had grown so powerful over time that it was far to easy to get lost in the magic if no one was around to stop him. Even now, even with the tattoos, he did not let himself scry alone, it being too easy for him to wander too far from his tether. 

The Elements loved Merlin and surged whenever he communed with them. If they could they would keep him with them always, but they respected his markings, his map back to himself. As soon as he is fully laid out he feels the Elements sing out to him. The Earth makes the grass grow a little softer, the underground springs, all that remains of the lake, surge a bit faster, the almost still air breathes a soft breeze over his bare skin. He greets them with a soft ripple of magic, thanking them for their company and guidance before reaching out further to connect with the leylines. The familiar frisson of energy skims over his skin, down through to his veins. He feels it pulse along with his heartbeat. Their communication happens with images and emotions, not words. Merlin flashes images of recent and not so recent happenings through his mind. The whispers, the flashes along their lines, the questioning of the dream forest, and finally his grief and longing for Arthur. 

The leyline goes quiet in his veins for a few moments, almost as if it was thinking. When it returns to him it is overwhelming his senses with rapid-fire images of an eerily familiar forest, a man being trampled, a woman who reminds Merlin far too much of Nimueh to be comfortable. There is a tomb filled with ravens, a dark sinister presence that makes him shudder. Overlaying it all there are the images of five young adults, appearing to be not much older than he and Arthur were when they met. Quick snapshots of them all romping through woods and caves. He feels love and loss and pining and jealousy and guilt. His breath draws in with shock as the images slow a bit. A dark-haired boy laying near death, a tawny skinned boy looking so stoic nearby but Merlin can feel his anguished pain. He watches the one, who could only be described as a Golden Boy, collapses to the ground in sacrifice and the dark-haired girl falls to her knees. Merlin witnesses the forest collapsing in on itself and feels its emotions as it leaves its belove Greywaren. The last image he gets from the leyline is accompanied by emotion so familiar to Merlin it pains him. Loyalty and devotion so strong, like nothing he has felt since Arthur. Merlin startles up into a sitting position.

The last image, the tall dark-haired boy opening his eyes to look at the gangly one with the tawny skin.

That blue, the look in his eye. 

_**"Kin"** _


	5. What the Ley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is keeping secrets, makes discoveries he is unsure about and thinks a lot. this is all basically Adam and his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did not abandon this for 3.5 weeks. I just got angry at myself for messing it up and was going to try and start again from the beginning because I realized that Adam Parrish should have been the start of this story for me. I love Adam with all my heart and I know I will have the most to say about him. In many ways, he is the glue that sticks this story ( and TRC ) together. I have a huge blind spot when it comes to anything Adam may ever have done badly because I come from almost as shitty a background as him and he does the best he can. This chapter rambles a bit because once again i should have started with him and split it up but i realized too late how much background i wanted to put in. Also my tenses are all over the place.

Adam Parrish lay awake. Typically __ sleep was not a problem for Adam. Between three jobs, school, and trekking back and forth to the Barns on the regular, he usually fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

School had been done for weeks now, though. Graduation was done, and with it, the trekking back and forth from St. Agnes was cut off as well, seeing as Ronan, and he had come to an agreement about Adam's living arrangments. Ronan could be very persuasive with Adam in ways that no one else could be. Adam had not been prepared for Ronan to be so thorough. Pro/con list - more money saved, helping with Opal ( this was listed as both a pro and con which made Adam scoff with laughter), less travel time. Ronan had a copy of Adam's lease in hand, showing the one year mark that landed just before graduation. The clincher was when Ronan claimed he would not charge rent but that he would expect Adam to buy all the groceries and help with the housework, farmwork and cooking. It was a compromise, not a gift. Not money thrown at a problem like Gansey would do. His stubborn side did not like it much, his soft and squishy side, that was very much in love with Ronan Lynch loved it. He would never admit to it out loud, though. 

_ This  _ was part of the problem.

Three things were weighing on Adam as he tried to sleep most nights in the last few weeks. One was obvious, he was going to have to leave Ronan for Harvard in another few weeks, and he was not prepared for that. They had discussed it as much as two stubborn assholes could. There were words and looks and pressing of foreheads together. Whispered words of  _ home  _ and  _ learning to use the phone  _ and  _ visiting.  _

The second was probably worrying them both but had not been discussed, and Adam needed to change that, he really did. He agonized over Ronan dreaming without Cabeswater. The dreams seemed to be harder to navigate, harder to pin down anything to bring back. It had been weeks since Adam heard anything from Ronan about his attempts to redream his magical forest. When spring first hit, the two had gone out to the place where the physical embodiment of Cabeswater once was. (they did not feel like bringing Gansey here, to the place he died was a good idea yet, so they made it just themselves) There were still woods there, but they did not bend time or seasons or have any other magical feeling. They had wanted to see if dreaming there would have improved the outcome. What they got was a big fat nothing. 

Or at least that is what Ronan thought. 

This leads to problem number three, which kept Adam up at night sometimes. He has been keeping something from Ronan. While he had been very good at not lying to Ronan. He had no reason to lie to Ronan anymore. The only thing he ever really lied about was the family stuff, and well the poverty stuff. None of them ever really knew the extent of it. How Adam hardly fed himself in order to save every nickel he could for his escape plan and pay for school.  _ But keeping secrets. Well... _

After that day, the day Adam nearly died of a broken heart... after Cabeswater died... He felt nothing. No whispers from the trees, no crackle from the ley lines. NOTHING. When Ronan could not dream properly at first, Adam consoled him and shared his own loss with him. Adam was no longer  _ The Magician _ . They went through Autumn together in a state of both mourning and learning. Learning to lean on each other, to take the worst of the sharp edges off. Neither of them would ever wholly lose their jagged edges, and that was fine with them. It was, in fact, something that drew them to the other. As the mourning lessened, the learning had started to turn to  _ learning  _ as was likely to happen when two teens in love and both starved for loving touch were left alone for any period of time. Slightly heated kisses goodnight, or languid soft slow make-outs in the BMW outside of Monmouth turned to scorching hot kisses pressed against the shitbox or the kitchen door or eventually on that first Friday of winter break, Adam pressed into the couch, legs entangled, hands roaming up the back of Ronan's shirt. The first time  _ it _ happened, Adam thought it was a fluke. It was his body reacting to Ronan biting and sucking at his neck while Adam's hands grabbed and stroked and scratched at the tattoo on Ronan's back. Ronan was already doing a bang-up job of making Adam  _ feel  _ so when that frisson of energy slid down his spine and made his limbs tingle he thought nothing of it other than  _ maybe we should slow down.  _ Not that he really wanted to at the time it was happening. Still, they had not talked about  _ it  _ other than their quiet confessions in the dark in the early days about both being totally inexperienced and not in a rush. So they had slowed down, and Adam forgot all about it. Until... it happened again. And this time, it was not while Ronan was turning him into a puddle. Well, not from physical activity, per se. On the last day of break, Ronan wanted to dream with Adam there. Adam stroked Ronans scalp as he went to sleep and watched over him looking for signs of distress. About twenty minutes into the sleep, he watched as Ronan's eyebrows crinkled as if in concentration. Adam smoothed it out with his thumb. Ronans body tensed up, and there it was again... that zap, the shimmering of electric pulses through his limbs and down his spine. Adam froze for a moment. This was most certainly the ley line. Weaker than before, no clear intent from it, no directives to fix it. It was more like a gentle wave from across a crowded hall in terms of a greeting than the very vivid demands it once felt like. Just as quick as it had started, it was gone right as Adam saw those gorgeous ice blue eyes open and find his. Adam had darted his eyes to Ronans hands to find them still gripped tight in his post dream paralysis. He had watched as Ronan slowly came back to himself, waited for his hands to unclench. Eventually, Ronan had lifted his hands to open them to check, a meagre few blades of grass drifted down. At the same time, he flung a string of glorious obscenities into the room about his dreams not working right. Adam had decided at that moment that he had to keep the fact that his magic was back while his boyfriends' was still broken from Ronan. Adam had not been sure how the jagged-edged boy would take it, and as a boy who always felt like he was  _ less,  _ he had never wanted Ronan to feel that way. Magical, beautiful, caring Ronan for all his sharpness should always feel like he was  _ more.  _

So Adam lay awake, feeling guilty about keeping it from his love. Ronan had eventually started dreaming more frequently. By spring break, he had started talking about trying to bring forth Cabeswater 2.0. Whenever there was a serious dream attempt, Adam felt it. Some were stronger than others. Many times though, there were intense bursts of energy that felt that they should have accompanied large dream items. Adam would wake from these surges in power disoriented, and with an urge to scry. He had not attempted to scry at all since... well since Aurora. These most energetic pulses though never were fruitful. They always happened when Adam was there. Ronan would wake confused and often looked ashamed or guilty. 

Tonight's guilt fest was not going away anytime soon. Adam just did not have enough going on to exhaust him into his old patterns of sleep anymore. Sure he was still working his ass off at three jobs. However, that would dwindle down to just one for the last two weeks before leaving, then being around for Boyd to use as vacation cover during winter and summer breaks. Giving up on sleep, Adam slipped out of bed as gently as he could so as not to disturb Ronan while he was actually sleeping peacefully. Padding downstairs quietly to not disturb Opal, Adam passed through the kitchen, the porch, and onto the vast stretch of grass that spread from the house to the many barns. The Magician lay down on his back, hands brushing through the blades of grass as he stared at the sky, the stars feeling much like when he would star at a light while working his tarot in the past. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his mind, bringing up images of the things he had done, the things Ronan had done, and the sacrifices Gansey and Blue had made. The boy with the dirt coloured hair went back further in his memories, to the night of his hair being in the  _ dirt _ . Him lying in the driveway, to Ronan saving him, to Adam making the bargain with Cabeswater.

" Quld usque magi?" he whispered to the wind.

Adam felt the energy everywhere he touched the earth. It started low and slow, but soon his body was alive with the energy flowing through him. The ley line was answering. Images flooded his mind that made no sense, no order. He saw a forest similar to Cabeswater, horses in armour, what looked like castle ruins, then a lake with a flaming barge upon it. A Blond young man with a smile on his face similar to the one only Adam got to see on Ronan. The images slowed and showed the same lake with a dark-haired man standing at the shore. Time seemed to be passing very quickly while the man never moved. Like he was waiting for something to happen. Seasons passed rapidly, and the scenery changed around him, a lake to a marsh to fields. 

The ley line could not really speak to him, never could, it was always images, feelings sensations but tonight he could swear he heard it say

_ "Veneficus" _

Adam reached with his mind again to see if he could sense this warlock, just then the man turned. Adam gasped and opened his eyes. The face was too familiar to be a coincidence: the nearly black, dark brown hair, the high sharp cheekbones, the heavy brow. The eyes, however, were not quite the same. These were a deep inky blue swirling with gold as opposed to Ronan's ice blue ones. 

Adam knew they would have to talk about this, about his gift, about the stranger. First, he needed to get some perspective on this, and he wished with all his heart that Persephone was here to talk to.

Sighing to himself, Adam stood and headed back through the house, quietly up to their bed and promised himself that this talk would happen soon. 


End file.
